


Beauty Sleep

by stifledlaughter



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 19:37:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21202964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stifledlaughter/pseuds/stifledlaughter
Summary: It's sounds like an awful joke."How do you fit two basketball players in a queen-sized bed?”“You don't."Which is how Himuro ends up on the floor at exactly 2:32am, face first into scratchy carpet.----Bedsharing with a supremely tall teammate is bad enough, but it can only get worse from there when Himuro realizes how much he's enjoying it.





	Beauty Sleep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bmouse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmouse/gifts).

> Happy birthday, @bmouse! Enjoy!

It's sounds like an awful joke.

"How do you fit two basketball players in a queen-sized bed?”

“You don't."

Which is how Himuro ends up on the floor at exactly 2:32am, face first into scratchy, shitty carpet. He knows it was exactly then because when he was knocked onto the floor, he didn't bother climbing back into the bed- he just stared at the clock on the nightstand with exhausted, humorless eyes until he passed out about an hour later. 

_So this is why they call it 'Hell Week'._

_\----_

_"_They only gave us 3 rooms," said Coach Araki, looking at the reservation sheet. The training center was styled to be Western, meant to be a training center for the 2020 Olympics. Himuro kept feeling this odd sense of being back in L.A.; the rooms were all set up American-style, including the beds and the bathrooms. "Looks like some other prefecture teams got to this ahead of us. Fukui, Okamura, Liu, you're in Room 128. Murasakibara, Himuro, you're in 129. I'll be in 150. If you make _any_ trouble, I will hear all of it and I will _have your heads_. Is that clear?" She, Himuro notes with annoyance, gives him a knowing look before turning back to the registration desk. 

She definitely had it out for him since she had found out he had been mentored by Alexandra Garcia. He'd come to realize that not a whole lot could change her mind on that. 

_\----_

"'It's a stamina training week,’ Coach Araki said. 'You'll be a better player for it,' she said. Well not when I'm DEAD," growled Okamura as they ran yet another lap around the training facility. 

"Look at the bright side," said Fukui as he sped ahead of Okamura. "Maybe, if you die, they'll name something after you, like the locker room or something." 

"Why would I care about that? I'll be dead!" bellowed Okamura as he chased after Fukui. 

Himuro and Murasakibara hung back, watching the chaos from afar. Liu had outstripped the team long again, sprinting ahead ‘to get away from the ceaseless noise’. 

Himuro, was frankly, exhausted from not sleeping well the night before. He was grateful that it wasn't too humid out, and that the path they were running on was shaded from the sun. He also took mild amusement to the times when Murasakibara bonked his head on some of the tree branches as he ran with them. 

"You're laughing again, Muro-chin," said Murasakibara, annoyed, as yet another branch clotheslined him. 

"Consider it payback for last night," replied Himuro, leaping over a tree root that had risen out of the ground to make a trap for the unaware. 

Murasakibara frowned. "What do you mean?"

Himuro gaped at him, narrowly missing another death-root-trap. "You pushed me off the bed! You giant starfish! So I had to sleep on the floor." 

Looking bemused, Murasakibara shook his head. "I don't remember doing that. When I woke up, you were already at breakfast. So I didn't see you on the floor."

Himuro sighed and said, "Okay, well, I'm going to try to try to sleep in the bed again tonight, but if you push me off, there _will _be hell to pay."

However, Murasakibara never got a chance to answer as he was whipped in the face by another branch. Himuro felt some sense of cosmic revenge. 

\--

Time for a strategy change. This time - cling to whatever was necessary to stay _on the bed_. Even if it was using Murasakibara himself. 

The first hour of sleep next to Murasakibara went fairly well - the giant hit the bed like a stone and just conked out immediately. Himuro managed to squeeze into his side of the bed, and even got some of the pillow the Murasakibara had claimed in his sleep. (The giant had the other two tucked under his waist and between his legs.) 

Everything seemed fine for the next hour after that. Himuro actually drifted off to sleep and was having a pleasant, nonsensical dream about trying different ice cream flavors that spoke back to him. It was the kind of dream where everything seemed fine even though, logically, it was not. 

And then the world spiraled upside down and he dropped his ice cream, which screamed horrifically as it plummeted to its death on the sidewalk.

He blinked and jolted awake as he nearly tumbled off the bed, lunging out and grabbing whatever he needed to grab to pull himself back up. It was a point of pride that he would _not_ sleep on that shitty carpet again. 

He happened to grab Murasakibara's arm, which had been flung out in likely a dream of Murasakibara's own. Using it like a rope, he climbed up and determinedly squished himself back into the bed, draping the arm over himself so that he could tuck under it and savor the space on the bed that had formerly been occupied by the arm. 

It took him a few seconds to realize that by doing this, it meant he accidentally became the little spoon.

_Fuck, fuck, this is weird_, he thought, trying to figure out of there was any way to not be doing this. Also, he was inherently annoyed that it was just improbable for him to ever be the big spoon in this messed up situation. He wasn't even given a _choice_. 

Except it was.... super comfortable to be under the arm. It was heavy, but surprisingly not suffocating. It was pleasantly warm, and he could smell some nice lavender-scented soap from the evening bath on Murasakibara. In fact, it was really nice.

_Too nice. _

Panicked, Himuro hurled himself onto the floor, smashing his face into the carpet. 

Best to entirely hide away from thoughts like _that. _

_\----_

"Muro-chiiiiiin," drawled out Murasakibara at breakfast. "I saw you on the floor this morning. Did I do that? I'm sorry."

"No, it wasn't you," said Himuro, feeling guilty he didn't wake up in time to not let his teammate see him sleeping on the carpet. "I, uh... must have rolled off in my sleep on my own."

Murasakibara simply shrugged and said, "Okay," and then moved away to pile about a pound of rice onto his plate. 

"You slept on the floor? That sucks," said Okamura. "If you really need it, we can switch rooms or something. Maybe our carpet is better. I think Coach Araki's room has a couch in it."

"I heard that Fukui snores and I'm sure as hell not going to bring this up to Coach," said Himuro, shuddering at dragging her into this. "I'll be fine. I'll figure it out." 

\----

Eight hours of sprints, burpees, and shooting drills later, Himuro was but a shell of an athlete.

He barely had the strength to drag himself to the showers (where he nearly gave into the desire to nap on the tile floor) but managed to make it to the bed, which was empty for now. He figured Murasakibara was out getting vending machine snacks down the hall. Within a few minutes of resting, he drifted off to sleep.

He was back at the ice cream dream again, and was apologizing to the cone he had dropped, which now comically was sporting crutches and a large head bandage. It was very angry with him and yelling fiercely, and then, like before, his world was yanked upside down, and the ice cream tumbled out of his hand. 

"Sorry!" he yelped to the ice cream, and then blinked away, fully expecting to be face-first in the scratchy carpet again. (Maybe he should just stop caring and ask for an extra blanket from the training center staff, so he'd have a nice landing pad next time.) 

However, against all odds, he was actually being held back by _Murasakibara's arm. _

He figured that he must have been falling, cried out, and then was saved by Mursasakibara, who appeared to genuinely still be sleeping. But now the arm was firmly holding him in, as if to keep him from rolling off the bed. 

Murasakibara was definitely actively spooning him now. 

Had he fantasized about this before? Maybe. Would he ever tell anyone that? No, he'd rather choke on a cactus. 

He wondered if it would be worth it to slip out and brave Fukui's snores, Maybe there was some extra sheets in the closet-

Murasakibara nuzzled into Himuro and sighed, his lips brushing the nape of Himuro's neck.

_Not now, boner_, frantically thought Himuro as he tried to assess what the fuck he was supposed to do in this situation. 

What _could _he do? Honestly, he wasn't even sure if he could break free of Murasakibara's grip without waking him up, and if he woke him up, then he'd have to go back to struggling for space on the bed and losing sleep. 

He really needed that sleep if he was going to survive Hell Week. And if he was going to sleep, he needed space on the bed, and, welp, if it meant having to be cuddled under Murasakibara's arm, that was just the sacrifice he was going to have to make. 

This logic worked long enough for him to drift back off to sleep, pressed up close to his teammate's chest. 

\----

Thankfully he woke up before Murasakibara and managed to unwrench himself from the arm. Like a cat squeezing itself through a set of almost-closed doors, he slipped out and made his way to the bathroom, feeling like he had a much better sleep than the previous nights.

Practice was definitely easier when you didn't have to sleep on the floor. He felt so much more energized, and even managed to get in some practice for moves he was planning to use in the next tournament.

However, his problem was now entirely different. He was now alert enough to actually think about the events of the night before.

_Well that makes it sound entirely salacious,_ thought Himuro. _Nothing happened. _And he’d found his way into some “oh nooooooo we only have one bed, what can we _possibly do_” situations in the past with acquaintances which had resulted in some delightful flings – he knew where this could go.

But he’d never quite had someone like Murasakibara in the bed. For instance, Murasakibara had never expressed interest in anything beyond food and basketball (despite his very strong protests to being linked with the sport.)

Sometimes Himuro liked to think that maybe there was, somewhere in that list of ‘things Murasakibara likes’, he was in there somewhere. For example, Murasakibara just kind of followed him around sometimes, and Himuro wasn’t sure if that was out of an unwillingness to take the lead, or if Murasakibara genuinely wanted to be in his presence.

But he wasn’t sure if that was the same as being on a ‘good things’ list or not.

(Not to mention he kept on going back to how good it felt to be snuggled up against his teammate.)

(Ugh. ‘_Good’_. Okay, fine. It was _great_. Who knew that in that giant man lay the talents of a consummate cuddler?)

“Oi! Pay attention!” snapped Okamura as he passed to Himuro, who barely caught the ball and basically relied on muscle memory to make a shot.

“Didn’t get your beauty sleep?” teased Fukui. “Is the prettiest man at Yosen tossing and turning at night?”

“He was on the bed last night,” said Murasakibara emphatically. “I didn’t kick him off this time.”

“He’s right,” said Himuro, coming to his defense. “Also, I’d like it stated that I am known as the prettiest man in all of Akita, thanks.”

“Humble of you,” commented Liu as he dribbled back to them. “Are we done gossiping about what happens in your guys’ beds? We’re here for basketball.”

Himuro tried not to think too much about how he thought he spotted a blush on Murasakibara’s cheeks as they turned back to practice.

\---

This time, Himuro came to bed after Murasakibara. His teammate seemed dead asleep, which made his plan easier.

Fuck pride. Fuck awkwardness. He needed his _sleep_, dammit, and he’ll cuddle his way to Hell and back to get it.

He crept towards the bed, making sure to avoid any creaky parts in the floor, and then carefully situated himself in the bed, ducking under Murasakibara’s arm and nestling in.

Damn. It was even better this time, because he had not yet this night tasted the bitter defeat of hurtling towards the carpet. 

After a few minutes of restlessness, he tumbled into slumber.

-

His ice cream friend was _pissed_.

“I said I was sorry!” insisted Himuro, gesturing wildly as the ice cream drove towards him in a small golf cart with vengeance in its eyes. He hopped around, trying to escape his foe who was directly targeting his left ankle when something stirred his consciousness, and he stepped on the golf cart, and he heard screaming in his mind as he once again was flung awake.

And was face-to-face with Murasakibara. He held his breath- he’d never had his face this close to him before- but the giant slept ceaselessly on.

How did he manage to turn around and end up like this? He felt like the arm pinning him down couldn’t possibly be moved even when he was awake and aware of how to shift it around, much less unconsciously in his sleep. He even tried now to shift around but to no avail – he was stuck.

Wow, Murasakibara had such _long_ eyelashes. Like a cow. A really pretty cow.

And up close, he could see slightly different shades of purple in his teammate’s hair. (Did they _dye_ it? How else did the Generation of Miracles end up with hair like that? What came first, the supernatural basketball powers or the hair?)

He reached out, without thinking, to touch it. It was so soft. _What conditioner does he use? _

And that’s when he looked down from the lock of hair he was holding to see curious, purple eyes staring at him.

_Shit._

Besides the hum of crickets and the gentle creaking of the facility in the breezes outside, it was dead silent.

No, wait, he could hear Fukui’s snoring. Yeah, that was definitely loud.

He released the lock of hair and slid his hand back down, and then realized, he really had nowhere to put it. Turned to face Murasakibara, he could either press it against his teammates (bare) chest, or awkwardly turn it towards himself and splay his hand against his own chest. He couldn’t move it elsewhere as he was trapped by the weight of the arm and the body pressed against him.

Murasakibara didn’t seem mad or anything – he just blinked slowly, something unreadable in his eyes. But he didn’t do anything.

Himuro opted to press his hand against his own chest. He continued to meet eyes with Murasakibara, and then breathed a sigh of relief when his teammate blinked one last time and then closed his eyes. Within a few minutes, the breathing sounds had evened out and Himuro was pretty sure Murasakibara was asleep.

Himuro, on the other hand, was awake the rest of the night.

He didn’t understand how the pounding of his heart didn’t wake the sleeping giant next to him.

\--

“Couldn’t sleep again?” asked Okamura. “You can say it was because of Fukui’s snoring. It’s okay. It was super loud last night. I almost suffocated him with a pillow but then that means that we’d have to train someone else to be a starter before the next game and Coach would suffocate us all.”

“It’s nothing,” said Himuro. He awkwardly shuffled around to clean up after their morning drills, making excuses to carry items back and forth from the storage shed in the gym to avoid Murasakibara.

He felt guilty for doing so, but he saw how Murasakibara was observing him during practice. He did everything as normal, working in their strategies and formations. If he threw himself entirely into basketball, he wouldn’t have to think about that look in his teammate’s eyes as he stared back, only inches away. 

He was arranging practice equipment in the storage shed when he heard the door shut, and turned around out of curiosity.

“Something’s wrong with Muro-chin,” said Mursasakibara, standing there, frowning. Had Himuro not known that Murasakibara was generally harmless, seeing the extremely tall man standing in the dim light of a flickering lightbulb frowning probably would have scared him half to death. “You’re avoiding me.”

Himuro sighed. “I… yeah.” _What’s the point of fighting it?_

Murasakibara sighed. “Do you want to switch rooms? I don’t know how to help. I can’t read your mind. I thought that you were sleeping okay.”

“I… was,” said Himuro hesitantly. “It’s just, it’s something I need to work out on my own. But it’s not you, it’s nothing you’re doing.”

Those unreadable eyes met his, and Himuro’s stomach twisted. Murasakibara didn’t deserve this awkwardness. He was just trying to sleep during camp with the accommodations that they were given. Himuro needed to work on his dumb – well, whatever this was.

He’d have it under control tonight. For sure.

\----

“Ouch! Fuck!”

Nothing was under his control.

The angry ice cream had somehow gotten ahold of a tiny helicopter and was peppering Himuro with sharp icicle missiles. “Cut it out!”

“Stop avoiding your feelings!” hissed the ice cream as he darted around Himuro’s head. “Say something! Coward!”

His subconscious sure was a dick.

“I don’t even know if he would be interested!” snapped Himuro, trying to punch the helicopter out of the sky. “I don’t even know if he’s gay.”

“If he isn’t interested, then why is he petting _your_ hair right now?” demanded the ice cream. “Why was he worried about _your_ sleep? Why is he fine cuddling you for the past two nights?”

“He’s doing what now?” asked Himuro, bewildered. In his moment of weakness, the ice cream piloted the helicopter directly into his face.

“What-” gasped Himuro as his eyes flew open, and again, he was face to face with Murasakibara, who was also awake.

And fondling a lock of Himuro’s hair.

“Mura-chin’s hair is very soft,” stated Murasakibara matter-of-factly, whispering. “What kind of conditioner do you use?”

Himuro gaped at this. “Uh…”

Murasakibara then traced his fingers (_Jesus, _his hands were huge) down Himuro’s face. “Pretty Muro-chin. You should have told me you weren’t getting your beauty sleep.”

Himuro laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. “I don’t understand.”

“I’ve liked cuddling with you these past few nights. It’s much better than you being on the floor. And it’s comfortable. But if you want to stop, we can.” His teammate’s voice was steady and serious. “If you aren’t sleeping well because of it.”

Himuro flushed. “No it’s that, well.” _Fuck it. _“I’m enjoying it too much.”

Murasakibara blinked. “How is that bad?”

Himuro felt like he was drowning in a giant pool of agony. (Dramatic? Yes. But it was still accurate.) “Look, I don’t- you know I’m gay, right? I’m enjoying this in a gay way.” _Smooth! It’s like you’ve never seduced anyone in your entire life. You absolute clod. _

Murasakibara nodded. “Me too. You’re making this too complicated, Muro-chin.”

Himuro was about to protest this claim when he felt himself being pulled even closer, and suddenly it was all _very _gay.

Murasakibara leaned back and Himuro gasped. That was some fucking kiss, alright. “Okay, yeah. That. Yep. That was good.”

They continued on like this, slowly and softly, and Himuro realized that Murasakibara was right. He was making this too complicated. It could be as simple as this, maybe.

“I don’t think we’re getting any sleep the rest of the night,” said Himuro, pausing in between kisses for necessary breath.

Murasakibara nodded and then kissed Himuro’s forehead, and then stilled. “Oh. I’m hungry.”

Laughing, Himuro leaned his forehead against Murasakibara’s collarbone. “You would be. I think I saw a conbini down the road. What do you want?”

“Wanna go grab some ice cream?”

Himuro froze. “Uh, actually, I’m feeling more like something else right now, to be honest. Chips maybe?”

Murasakibara seemed content with this. They quietly rolled out of bed. After dressing, they left, the moonlight guiding them down the road.

And if their teammates accused them both of being tired in the morning, neither of them said anything.

They’d get their sleep when training was done.


End file.
